


Confessions

by scribblemoose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunken conversation leads to shennanigans after a feast for Merlin and Arthur</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

The candles in the Great Hall cast a shadowy glow over the remnants of the feast. The tables bore empty plates and spilled goblets, stripped carcasses and soggy table-linens. As Merlin picked his way carefully from the door (where he'd said a solemn, if slightly wobbly goodnight to Leon) to the dais at the other end of the room, where Arthur sprawled across his throne, one leg slung negligently over the arm, kicking idly at Uther's larger, sturdier throne to his left.

Merlin approached the dais steps with an air of respect. Not for the seat of power or Arthur or any echoes of Pendragon authority. But for the merciless force of gravity. Because Merlin had had quite a bit to drink and not all parts of the room were keeping still, and his feet weren't going _exactly_ where he wanted them to, and falling flat on his face in front of Arthur wasn't his idea of a perfect end to the evening.

"There!" he announced proudly as he reached the top of the dais. And promptly fell into Arthur's lap.

Fortunately Arthur saw the funny side, and rather than yell at Merlin for landing on him, chose to rough-tickle his ribs instead. There was a lot of undignified squirming and giggling on both their parts, until finally Arthur relaxed back into his throne, and Merlin relaxed back into Arthur. Arthur's arm curved soft over Merlin's stomach, Merlin's fingers playing at Arthur's wrist, Arthur's breath warm in Merlin's ear.

Merlin let out a long, contented sigh, and thought perhaps he might just fall asleep.

"Mmmm," said Arthur. "Beltane."

Merlin nodded. "G'd feast."

"This," Arthur gestured expansively at the two of them, flopped in his throne like a heap of cloaks or a sack of… some kind of vegetable. "'S not right. Not _dign'fied_. But, y'know what? Hm, Merlin? Y'know what?"

"What, Arthur? What d'you know?"

"It _is_ right. Isn't that odd?"

Merlin nodded solemnly. "Very odd."

Arthur absentmindedly kissed the top of Merlin's head. Merlin smiled.

"I trust you, Merlin."

"Yeah?" There was something wrong about that, something that Merlin should be feeling, but he was full of mead and good food and Arthur was warm and making him feel nice, so he couldn't exactly remember what….

"Even with the magic thing."

"What magic thing? My thing's not magic." Merlin squinted down at his breeches. "It's good, but I wouldn't say…"

Certain parts of Merlin's brain that bore the label 'Self Preservation' shoved the very lively parts of Merlin's brain labelled 'Hey, why not?' out of the way, and Merlin clamped his mouth shut.

"'S it good?" Arthur was squinting at Merlin's breeches too.

Self Preservation breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed into a swoon, while Hey Why Not grinned at Horny as Fuck, who had just arrived, roused from a mead-induced torpor feeling oddly refreshed and raring to go.

"'S verry good," Merlin drawled. "Wanna see?"

Arthur spluttered laughter. "Merlin! Don't be ridiculous, of course I don't want to…. Oh alright, go on then."

Merlin grinned and unlaced his breeches more quickly than was non-magically possible.

(Self Preservation winced, but no-one took any notice.)

"See?" Merlin curled his fingers around his half-hard dick, giving it a fond squeeze. He knew it was larger than average, and he'd always been extremely fond of it. He'd had compliments and everything.

Arthur swallowed very hard, and stared. He didn't _stop_ staring. Merlin gave him a sideways glance and "Arthur! You're _dribbling._ Ew!"

"No I'm not!" said Arthur, quickly, flushing dark pink across his cheeks and wiping the back of his hand swiftly across his mouth.

An outrageous idea crossed Merlin's mind. (Self Preservation considered trying to stop it but really, what was the point?)

"You want to touch it?"

"Merlin!"

But Merlin was impervious to Arthur's outrage. He shoved his breeches down and gave his cock an affectionate stroke. It was almost fully hard now, pointing straight up, keen and eager. Not bad considering all the mead.

"I-" Arthur floundered.

Merlin's eyelashes fluttered and he felt Arthur's hand twitch.

"Feels good," Merlin said, and settled back against Arthur's body.

Warm fingertips, not his own, curled themselves around Merlin's erection. Merlin sighed happily. "Mmm. Beltane."

"You've clearly enchanted me," said Arthur, feebly.

"Yeah, prob'ly," said Merlin. "Tighter. Squeeze it a bit. I can take it."

"Oh, can you?"

"I can take anything you want to dish out," Merlin said. "Anything."

Arthur laughed, a deep rumble that might have sounded sinister, if Arthur was actually capable of sounding sinister. Which he wasn't.

Suddenly Arthur was getting up, switching around so Merlin was sitting on Arthur's throne, his bare backside against the warm wood, and Arthur was on his knees.

Merlin watched, slack-jawed and astonished, as Arthur settled himself between Merlin's knees and took Merlin's cock into his mouth in one firm, astounding slide.

"Arthur!" Merlin squeaked, his fingers clutching convulsively at Arthur's golden hair.

Arthur mumbled, tried to take Merlin a bit too deep, gagged and coughed.

"'S okay," Merlin gasped. "Just a bit, that's fine, you don't have to, just a bit, just, just…"

"You're a bit… big," said Arthur, and just when Merlin was thinking this really must be a dream and perhaps he'd collapsed unconscious in a corner somewhere right after Gaius and Geoffrey had sung 'Percival the Snuffly Sheep', Arthur took him back into his mouth again, and Merlin didn't give a fuck what was real or not so long as he got to feel like this.

Arthur was more careful this time, wrapping his fist around the root of Merlin's cock so he couldn't take too much. Arthur's other hand, Merlin couldn't help but notice, was rummaging around in his own breeches, which meant, Merlin thought, Arthur was actually enjoying this too.

Merlin relaxed back into Arthur's throne, stroked Arthur's hair, and let his mind dissolve into pure, wet, hot, sucking pleasure.

After a while his hips started to rock. This made Arthur moan around Merlin's dick, and made Arthur's hand pick up a tell-tale rhythm in his breeches, so Merlin kept doing it. Fuck-fuck-fucking up into Arthur's hand and mouth, pressing his cock-head against the wet-warm-wiggle of Arthur's tongue. And probably this would have been a lot quicker during the daytime. Not because, as Self-Preservation would have it, Arthur would have banished him back at the part where he undid his breeches, but because Merlin was just drunk enough to dull things and make time stretch and….

"Merlin?"

Merlin looked around. Everything was… odd. The candle light was flickering funny, like it was, well, sort of slow and…

"Shit," Merlin said, closing his eyes so Arthur wouldn't see the flash of gold as he let time turn back to normal.

"What?" said Arthur.

"I'm going to-"

And Merlin came all over Arthur's face.

There were big, white globs of it, sticky and thick and the smell of sex and men filled the air, and somewhere in the pure, impossible pleasure of orgasm, Merlin wondered distantly if Arthur was going to kill him for this. But all Arthur did was to stick Merlin's cock back in his mouth and suck Merlin's ability to think right out of him.

Then Arthur rocked back on his heels and pumped his fist over his own cock for the swift half-dozen or so strokes it took until his face twisted and his cheeks puffed out and really, it shouldn't have looked as attractive as Merlin found it, and then Arthur's come was arcing through the air to splash on Merlin's boots.

Merlin and Arthur's eyes met. Their bodies trembled and they gasped for breath, and Merlin pulled at Arthur's shoulders, pulled him up, up and in, until they somehow squashed both of them into the throne and by then they were kissing, kissing, kissing, and Merlin was convinced he'd wake up any minute with a screaming hangover and embarrassingly wet sheets.

But he didn't. (Well, not for several hours, and when he did it was in Arthur's bed and there was rosemary oil everywhere, but that's another story.)

"I have a confession," Merlin panted.

Arthur waited expectantly, like he'd known this was coming all along.

"I've wanted to do that for a really, really long time," said Merlin.

For a second Arthur looked exasperated, for some reason. But then his face softened and he smiled at Merlin, and said, "Me too. God help me, Merlin, me too."

Merlin beamed brighter than the sun and said, with all the cheek that too much mead could lend him, "We can do it again if you like!"

"Oh, really?" said Arthur, arching an eyebrow. But his hand was already curved possessively around Merlin's hip.

"Really," said Merlin, happily.

"And that's all you've got to say for yourself?"

"Yep."

Arthur sighed his 'I don't know what I'm going to do with you Merlin, I really don't' sigh, but he looked happy. Very happy, as a matter of fact.

"Especially here," Arthur said.

"Especially here what? Sorry, Arthur, you're not making much sense. I think you might be a bit drunkipated."

"What?"

"See?"

"No, I… Oh, never mind. I meant, I always wanted to do it in the throne room."

Merlin's eyes widened. "Sex, you mean?"

Arthur nodded. "Especially…. well, yes. That."

"In your throne?"

Arthur nodded again.

They turned their heads, at the same time and in perfect unison, towards Uther's throne. Huge and stately, ornately carved, heavy with power and history.

"One day," Merlin said.

"Yes," Arthur said, unable to suppress a smirk. "One day."

And he kissed Merlin long, and deep, to claim him.

 _~fin~_


End file.
